


First Start

by Tangela



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AP700 - Freeform, His name is Brad - Freeform, If three people read this I've made it, and we love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 09:37:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangela/pseuds/Tangela
Summary: The revolution was over, and now the androids had to figure out just who they were supposed to be.





	First Start

**Author's Note:**

> I'm part of a Detroit discord server with a massive running joke about the CyberLife AP700 androids, so I wrote this for them. It's dumb as hell, but sort of sweet? So here's 700 words for AP700 (thank you for that, Dana).

The war hadn’t been won overnight, but things had definitely changed for the better. Markus was fighting with everything he had to ensure that androids were treated as equals to humans. But of course, the system had to be pulled apart piece by piece, and progress was slow, with a lot of hurdles and roadblocks along the way. Not everyone wanted to see androids as any more than the commodities they once were, and fought tooth and nail to push every new law back.

Now that they were without an owner, without a home, without a purpose, the androids had to figure out who they were, and what they were supposed to do with themselves and their newly won freedom. And since, in a sense of deviancy, many of them had been born yesterday, this was not an easy thing to do. A great deal of them weren’t programmed for human relations, and found a hard time bonding with anyone and set out alone to figure things out for themselves. No harm was legally allowed to come to androids in the physical sense anymore, but that didn’t stop the stares and hateful words.

To have woken up in a room filled with exact replicas of yourself in the middle of a revolution was not an easy thing to adjust to. Hundreds of faces, hundreds of voices, all marching and chanting in unison, for something they weren’t even aware could exist for them until moments ago, until a hand that looked like yours and a voice exactly your own told you to “wake up”. Never having had a chance to find out what being an android meant, fresh off the assembly line, put into sleep mode and stored away far below the earth.

When the dust settled, the androids had choices to make. Choice. It was a strange word. Many stayed with Jericho, some had human families who had been kind and were willing to take them home, and some decided to venture out alone, with all of a child’s curiosity and not yet enough of an adult’s fear. And so a lone AP700 wandering the streets of Detroit was no longer an odd sight, not after the events of the past few weeks.

He knew he had been programmed to be a household android, but he’d never left CyberLife and so had no knowledge of how an android was supposed to be. He supposed now that he had his freedom, he could be whatever he wanted, and a strange mix of relief and unease washed over him. He wondered if emotions were supposed to feel unsettling, and thought perhaps he should have stayed with Jericho. At least he wouldn’t have to do all of this alone. But something told them that he needed to do it this way, and so he kept walking.

He decided that figuring out the fate of his entire existence was perhaps not the best idea for right now, and settled for something simpler.

A name. He needed a name.

He couldn’t be AP700 - that was his designation. He stopped at a bench and sat down. He’d never done that before. It was pleasant. He decided to try lying down. That was nice too. He didn’t notice the strange stares he was attracting. It was the middle of winter, and here he was, lying on a park bench, trying to figure out his entire barely a month old life. That feeling of unease was settling in again.

Back to the name. He sat up and looked around. Nothing struck him, so he stood up and kept walking. Eventually he came by a bus shelter. It had a poster along one side of it, advertising a movie. He’d never seen a movie before, but he’d been programmed to know what they were. Along the top were the actors’ names, and he leaned in closer to read them. One in particular struck him.

Brad, he thought to himself. It seemed right.

“Brad,” he said under his breath, as if testing it out. It felt good. Now that he had a name, somehow everything felt a little easier already. He wondered if he’d been programmed with a sense of optimism, or if this was something that came with deviancy. He decided not to think about it too hard.

Brad continued on, with a somewhat hopeful feeling. He knew everything wasn’t going to just fall into place for him, but he also knew he always had Jericho to go back to should he need to. And so, he kept walking, with the warm winter sun on his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Brad deserves the world.


End file.
